<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>A Morris Talliver One Shot - Happy (Fucking) Valentine's Day by sunflowervol97</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29433990">A Morris Talliver One Shot - Happy (Fucking) Valentine's Day</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflowervol97/pseuds/sunflowervol97'>sunflowervol97</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>James Phelps - Fandom, Morris Talliver - Fandom, Phelps twins, The Turn (2012)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bridget Jones's Diary References, Comedy, F/M, Fluff, Meet-Cute, One Shot, Pride and Prejudice References, Rom-com, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Romantic Fluff, Short &amp; Sweet, Short One Shot, Short film, Stand-Up Comedy, The Notebook references, chick-flick, the notebook</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 16:32:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,607</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29433990</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflowervol97/pseuds/sunflowervol97</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirsten hasn't left the comfort of her own apartment in over three months. Ever since her breakup, she prefers wallowing in her own misery and doesn't want anything to do with romance, but that's about to change when her friends drag her to The Comedy Club in London. </p><p>This one shot is based on a short film called "The Turn (2012)". I strongly advise you to watch it before reading. Don't worry, it's only 20 minutes long! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5mhDdDfq8Vs</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Morris Talliver/OC, Morris Talliver/OFC</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Morris Talliver One Shot - Happy (Fucking) Valentine's Day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Surprise, Kirsten! I'm your secret Valentine! Though you literally assigned your name to me, so I guess you already knew that...<br/>To celebrate vday, I decided to write you a one shot about your favourite character in the world! Morris Talliver!<br/>I hope you like it and ilysm! &lt;3</p><p>TW // breakup, alcohol, mature language (if you couldn’t tell from the title)<br/>CW // fluff</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Oh, come on! You have to get off that couch sometime!”</p><p>The annoying pleads of my whining roommate entered my ears, but I didn’t process them. I heard them, but I didn’t even dare thinking about going out. They put on her bright red coat and then reapplied their lipstick in the mirror. It was a Sunday. Usually in the “Besties Apartment” (the name we had given it ourselves), that would mean the last day of partying before another week of my exhausting job as a school counsellor. Don’t get me wrong, I loved those students with my entire heart but, boy, did they drain the absolute life out of me.</p><p>               “No,” I said while throwing a pillow at their face.</p><p>               “It’s been three months, Kirsten. It’s time to put yourself out there again.”</p><p>               I sighed deeply and responded, “I’m not ready, Sage.”</p><p>               “You don’t even have to talk to anyone. It’s a comedy show for God’s sake. You just have to laugh!”</p><p>               “Can’t you see I don’t feel like smiling?”</p><p>               “Well, Gail, Pippa, and I are leaving now. You can still join us if you want. We’ll be there until midnight.”</p><p>               “Don’t get your hopes up.”</p><p>               “We’ll see,” they grinned.</p><p>Once my three roommates left the apartment, I walked into the kitchen, prepared myself a glass of wine and turned on the telly. I was ready for a full evening of watching films about a random woman finding out her husband is actually a serial killer. That’s how most of those true crime movies go anyway. Though when I turned on the television, I didn’t see any true crime films. Instead, the title of the movie read “Bridget Jones’s Diary”.</p><p>               <em>Darcy </em><em>: I like you, very much.</em></p><p>               <em>Bridget </em><em>: Ah, apart from the smoking and the drinking, the vulgar mother and... ah, the verbal diarrhoea.</em></p><p>               <em>Darcy </em><em>: No, I like you very much. Just as you are.</em></p><p>               I scoffed loudly at my screen, “No, Colin! You like her for now! And then you come home to him fucking someone else and his excuse is that you’ve just become different people. <em>Just as you are</em>…my arse!”</p><p>*Zap*</p><p>
  <em>               Allie: Why didn't you write me? Why? It wasn't over for me, I waited for you for seven years. But now it's too late.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>               Noah: I wrote you 365 letters. I wrote you every day for a year.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>               Allie: You wrote me?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>               Noah: Yes... it wasn't over, it still isn't over</em>
</p><p>*Zap*</p><p>
  <em>               Mr Darcy: I love you. Most ardently. Please do me the honour of accepting my hand.</em>
</p><p>I swear to God. If I had to watch this fucking garbage any longer, I would have projectile vomited all over my television. What the fuck was up with these romance movies today anyway?</p><p>I looked at my phone, ready to search the tv guide of the day to find anything to watch that wasn’t a sappy rom-com or a film adaptation of a bad Nicholas Sparks book when I saw today’s date written on my lock screen.</p><p>SUNDAY, 14 FEBRUARY</p><p>For fuck’s sake.</p><p>♡♥♡</p><p>I heard faint laughs coming from inside and I braced myself for what I was about to do. <em>Come on, Kirsten. Don’t be a coward. Open the door. </em>I put my hand against the door and pushed, walking inside. I hadn’t been somewhere other than my apartment in three months, so this all felt awfully strange to me.</p><p>“Welcome to London’s Comedy Club!” a sign on the door read as I walked through a dark hall. I pushed aside a dusty, grey curtain and was greeted by over 40 people, all intently watching the random comedian that was performing at that moment. It seemed like his jokes weren’t being well received by the crowd.</p><p>I found Sage, Gail, and Pippa at a table on the right side of the club. Some of our other friends had joined as well, though it felt weird still calling them my friends as I had avoided them since the breakup. All squished next to each other at one single table were also Jenny, Sam, and Fem.</p><p>               “I don’t think we should judge other people’s behaviour as much as we do. My wife tells me that strip clubs are degrading to women,” I heard the comedian say as I tried to walk to my friends as quietly as possible.</p><p>               “You said that last week!” A random dude in the crowd yelled.</p><p>               “I go to strip clubs. I do! I come out of there at 3 o’clock in the morning, pissed out me head, with nothing in me pockets and a hard on and most of my life savings are in Bambi’s pants. And she’s degraded? Don’t judge me!”</p><p>               “No way! It’s Kirsten, guys!” Fem screamed loudly. The comedian, who was in the middle of his (failing) joke looked completely offended by her interrupting his set.</p><p>               “KIRSTEN!!!!” The rest of the group joined and kept screaming my name until almost the entire bar was doing the same.</p><p>The comedian on stage was so annoyed, he sighed and just walked off and the whole crowd started to cheer even louder. Once I reached the table, completely embarrassed by what just happened, I gave everyone a dirty look but then broke into laughter.</p><p>               “Shut the fuck up,” I said as I sat down next to Sage.</p><p>               “Knew you’d show up,” they responded while sliding over a glass of white wine they had already ordered for me.</p><p>               “Don’t worry, you haven’t missed a thing. This failed comedian just performed the exact same set as last week…Absolute bore he was,” Pippa explained annoyedly.</p><p>               “All right! All right! Order in the room, please!” A guy on stage said through the microphone, “Kirsten, I don’t know who the fuck you are but welcome to the club, I guess. Up next, we have the star of ITV’s the very model of a modern British telly-comedy: Arthur Penn!”</p><p>While he was welcomed with roaring applause, he had a hard time maintaining that same excitement from the audience. One dude kept telling him to “do the voice”, though I didn’t know what he was talking about.</p><p>I was so ready to hate this evening - the entertainment was definitely in favour of that - but yet I was having the best time. It had been so long since I had been with my friends, laughing together. Though we were mostly laughing <em>at</em> the comedians instead of <em>with</em> them.</p><p>Sage ordered two more bottles of wine for our table which emptied a bit too quickly. Before we knew it, the last act of the evening was getting up on stage.</p><p>               “Our next act is one of the new comedic greats! Everyone, give it up for Morris Talliver!”</p><p>               “You’re going to love him,” Sage whispered in my ear, “Quite handsome too, you know.”</p><p>               I sighed and said curtly, “Sage, don’t.”</p><p>               “Fine. Fine.”</p><p>I took my glass and chugged the remainder of it down my throat. Clearly, the only good thing about this evening was the company of my friends and the alcohol. When I looked back up from my glass, time around me seemed to stop.</p><p>               “Thank you very much for having me tonight, ladies and gentlemen! It sure is an honour for me to be here at this historic place, you know, the Comedy Club! I’ve been coming here since I was 15 and I’d sit in that seat every evening,” the man on stage pointed his index finger at the exact spot I was sitting in while looking directly at me. Everything after that felt like a blur. I heard the muffled laughter of my friends and the people around us. It seemed like he was rather funny, yet I couldn’t hear anything of what he was saying.</p><p>I just kept staring at his long, dark brown hair, moving around every time he turned his head. It was almost longer than mine.</p><p>               “Earth to Kirsten! Hello!” Jenny literally snapped me out of my trance by snapping her fingers in front of my face to get my attention and uttered, “Oh my God.”</p><p>               “What?” I asked confusedly.</p><p>               “Kirsten fancies the comedian!” She proclaimed loudly.</p><p>That’s when I noticed his set had finished without me even realising. <em>Did I even hear any of his jokes?</em></p><p>               “I sure hope it’s not that miserable Stanley Kovack guy!” Fem giggled.</p><p>               Gail slapped Fem on the arm, “No, you idiot! Morris!”</p><p>               “Speak of the devil!” Sage spoke up, “There he is! At the bar! Go talk to him!”</p><p>               “Hell no!” I said loudly. No way in HELL was I going to go up to him. Not even because of the breakup, but due to the fact that he left me completely speechless before and he wasn’t even talking to me then.</p><p>               “Well, you’re out of luck because it looks like he’s coming over himself!” Sage laughed.</p><p>Before I could process what was happening, a tall, long-haired boy was standing in front of me, grinning cheekily. He was wearing a black velvet suit jacket with a matching black tie and white shirt. I thought he looked quite well put together, which I didn’t expect from a comedian.</p><p>               “You’re in my seat,” He said curtly.</p><p>               “I’m what?” I responded dumbfoundedly. Was he acting like he owned the place or something? I thought he was still an up-and-coming comedian?</p><p>               “I sat in that exact seat every time I came to one of these shows,” he explained, “Fancy a drink?”</p><p>               “She fancies much more than that!” Sam said seductively, followed by Gail hitting her on the shoulder and telling her to shut up.</p><p>               “I would love a drink,” I said, taking my purse from the floor and following him to the bar. I turned around at the group of friends who were very quiet, yet their eyes were wide, and their hands were flailing around their bodies from excitement.</p><p>               “I’m Morris! Morris Talliver! It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kirsten,” He stretched out his hand towards me, waiting until I gave him mine. Our fingers touched and I looked at our intertwined hands, afraid to look up and make eye contact. We both simultaneously realised we had been holding hands for quite some time now and immediately let go of each other.</p><p>               “You know my name?” I asked awkwardly, still thinking about the feeling of his soft fingers on my skin.</p><p>               “I mean, people were screaming your name over and over again earlier. You could even hear it backstage.”</p><p>               “Right. Sorry about that. They’re very hectic.”</p><p>               “Oh, I didn’t mind it. I think Stanley did though, but he’ll get over it. He has had to deal with these kinds of things all his life! He was this big comedian when I grew up. I used to go to his shows and retell his jokes to my parents a million times!”</p><p>               “I wouldn’t know,” I remarked, “I’ve only just gotten into stand-up, actually.”</p><p>               “Since when?”</p><p>               “…today,” I admitted.</p><p>               My confession made him laugh, which made me quite proud of myself. I imagined making a professional comedian laugh wasn’t the easiest job. “Well, I’m absolutely thrilled I get to be part of such a wonderful experience then!”</p><p>               He took a swig of his red wine and said, “I do have a question, though.”</p><p>               “Bring it,” I said, feeling awfully intrigued by what he was about to say.</p><p>               “What are you doing here on Valentine’s Day? Shouldn’t you be with your boyfriend or girlfriend tonight?”</p><p>               “Smooth,” I chuckled, “No. Because I don’t have one.”</p><p>               “So, you have two? Or three? FOUR? Tell me when to stop! FIVE?!”</p><p>               “I don’t have any!” I replied, laughing loudly.</p><p>               Morris beamed, “Well, I have four but they’re all busy. That’s why I’m here…”</p><p>               “You must miss all four of them so badly.”</p><p>               “I really do. There’s Zoe. Ah, sweet Zoe. You’ve got Nova, the adorable one. Marine, the French one. If you know what I mean. And Vale. She’s my favourite.”</p><p>               I kept giggling at his jokes, which made me feel quite bummed knowing I missed his whole set earlier. If he was this funny during a normal conversation, how good would his rehearsed jokes even be? “How on earth do you find the time for these shows with all those girlfriends!” I jested.</p><p>               “It’s a real hassle. But that’s the life of a comedian,” he sighed dramatically, “But for real, I’m not seeing anyone. Haven’t seen anyone since my ex cheated on me 6 months ago. And that’s the <em>true</em> life of a comedian.”</p><p><em>He had been cheated on as well?</em> <em>Finally, someone who gets it!</em> My friends were supportive and loving, yet I didn’t feel like any of them truly understood what I was going through. They were all either in a happy relationship or comfortably single.       </p><p>               “My ex cheated on me as well!” I confessed, almost sounding too happy about the matter. I was just excited I had finally found someone who wouldn’t try to tell me it would get better. I knew it would, but at this moment I just wanted to wallow in my misery and fully experience the utter heartbreak I was feeling.</p><p>               “Look at all the things we have in common. Are we soulmates?”</p><p>               “Please,” I laughed.</p><p>I hadn’t actually laughed in months. Until this evening…Morris had that strange talent of making me forget about my ex. And I didn’t know why.</p><p>               Morris raised his glass of wine as though he was going to make a toast, “To a happy Valentine’s Day, Kirsten.”</p><p>               “Happy fucking Valentine’s Day,” I said and swung my glass against his.</p><p>               “Talliver?” Our lovely conversation suddenly got interrupted by the barman, “We’re closing up. You and your girl, out.”</p><p><em>Closing? </em>I looked around and suddenly saw that the club was completely empty. Apparently, we had been talking for over two hours about the most random things. So long, I hadn’t even noticed my friends leaving.</p><p>               Morris took my purse off the ground and handed it to me. “Put it on my tab, Ben! See you next week!”</p><p>We both walked outside into the freezing air, awkwardly standing across from one another with our hands in our coats. It was so cold; I had the strange urge to hug him. He was only wearing his thin jacket coat, but he didn’t seem to need any warming up.</p><p>               “You must be freezing,” I said with my face buried into my scarf.</p><p>               “I’m not feeling anything actually! It must be the alcohol,” Morris argued.</p><p>               “Apple juice, right,” a voice spoke not far away from us.</p><p>We looked over to see a bearded man leaning against the street wall. He was clearly drunk. Two other men stood by him, silently conversing together about something.</p><p>               “I should probably check up on him. But come to the show next week! I’d love to see you there,” Morris said while already following the older man who I now recognised as the first comedian I saw perform this evening.</p><p>               “We’ll see,” I still yelled after him.</p><p>♡♥♡</p><p>For the next six days, my friends kept teasing me about Morris, telling things like “Ohh, you want to kiss him so bad!” or “Ohh, you want to eat his hair like spaghetti!”</p><p>They truly were the strangest girls I had ever met. Where did I even find them? But they weren’t completely off the mark when they teased about my feelings for Morris. In fact, I had spent the whole week counting down to Sunday, yearning to be able to see him once more. Of course, I didn’t dare tell this to them and just brushed off their comments.</p><p>               “Are you wearing lipstick?” Gail asked surprisedly as we were all putting our shoes on, “You haven’t put on lipstick in months!”</p><p>               “This just confirms it! Kirsten wants Morris!” Pippa smirked as she stepped into her Chelsea boots.</p><p>               “No comment,” I said crisply and put on my coat, ready to head to The Comedy Club.</p><p>When we entered the club, that comedian from ITV was on stage again. Yet again, we heard a guy yelling, “Do the voice! Come on! Do the voice!”. The rest of the crowd was cheering the same sentence over and over again, much to the dismay of the comedian. We sat down at the same table as last week and watched the comedian on stage visibly become angrier. It seemed like he just wanted to perform his act without being reminded of his role on television, but the people in the room didn’t care. The audience kept screaming for the voice until the comedian was completely sick of it and left the stage.</p><p>               “There you are!” A deep voice startled me, “Thought you weren’t coming!”</p><p>I turned around and there stood Morris, looking as handsome as ever. He put down two beers on the table and pushed one of the glasses in my direction as he sat down next to me.</p><p>The older comedian (the one I remembered from last week, drunkenly slouching to his car) walked on stage with a big smile. “Do you want to hear the voice?” He yelled into the microphone, “OHH! YOU DIRTY, IGNORANT, LITTLE FOOLS, YOU!”</p><p>He started performing his comedy routine, which turned out to be good. Like really good actually. I started to understand Morris’ admiration for the guy. That Stanley fella was actually really funny. The audience erupted in laughter every time Stanley told a punchline. Even I couldn’t stop myself from laughing out loud.</p><p>Towards the end of his set, Morris stood up from his chair and started making his way towards the exit. I immediately followed him, confused about why he was leaving so suddenly. After all, he was set to go on any minute now.</p><p>               “Morris! Where are you going?” I yelled as I eventually reached him outside of the club.</p><p>               “I’m leaving.”</p><p>I looked at him, unable to read his face. Although I didn’t know him quite well yet, he definitely looked different. His usually happy demeanour was gone and had changed into an emotionless attitude.</p><p>               “What about your set?” I asked, “You’re on any minute!”</p><p>               “Not anymore,” he said monotonously.</p><p>               I walked over to him and placed my hand on his face. Softly, I said, “Morris, talk to me.”</p><p>Suddenly he broke. The noise of the London traffic was loud, yet the only thing I heard was him.</p><p>               “He stole it. He stole everything!” Morris screamed, “Those were my jokes. I wrote those!”</p><p>I stood in front of him in silence, not knowing what to say. I wanted to tell him how sorry I was, how badly I wanted to make Stanley pay for what he did. But I didn’t, because I knew nothing I could ever say would fix what had happened.</p><p>               “That’s it. My dream of being a comedian,” his voice cracked, “Gone…”</p><p>But I <em>could</em> show him.</p><p>               “Can I have your keys?” I asked him.</p><p>               “What? Why?”</p><p>               “Just give them.”</p><p>He hesitantly gave me his heavy set of keys. Although there were only two keys on there, the rest of the set was filled up with geeky key chains, all of some Star Wars characters and a lightning bolt.</p><p>               “This is his car, right?” I asked him, pointing at a grey BMW parked close to the entrance of the club.</p><p>               “Kirsten-”</p><p>He didn’t have to confirm though, because I knew it was Stanley’s. I had seen him crawl into it last week while being completely liquored up. Before Morris could stop me, I ran the lightning bolt keychain across the side of the grey car, creating a big scratch from front to back on the doors.</p><p>               “ARE YOU MAD?” He panicked and worriedly ran his hands through his hair, “WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO NOW?”</p><p>               “We run.”</p><p>               “I’m a comedian, Kirsten! I don’t run!” He shouted but I had already grabbed his hand.</p><p>High on adrenaline, I dragged him along with me until we reached the Westminster Bridge. The sun had disappeared and was replaced by a bright, white moon, lighting up our faces along with the endless city lights.</p><p>               “We’ll steal that book back,” I said after a minute of catching my breath, “And you’re going to become the biggest fucking comedian in the world.”</p><p>               “I don’t know if I even want that,” Morris admitted, “If I see what it has done to Stanley.”</p><p>               “Don’t compare yourself to that miserable, old git. You’re not the same person, Morris. And you’re good at what you do.”</p><p>               He was still out of breath and panting heavily between his words. “God, I’m so out of shape.”</p><p>               “You’re lucky I like funny guys,” I joked.</p><p>               “Do you now?” He said softly and moved closer to me, and put his hand on my face, his thumb softly caressing my cheek. Just like the first time I saw him, time seemed to stop around us. The cars stopped moving, the lights stopped flickering, the only thing that seemed in motion, was us.</p><p>               “Well, I got a great one,” he said, setting up the start of a joke, “Kissing burns 6.4 calories a minute. Wanna workout?”</p><p>I didn’t care how awful his joke was. I flung my arms around his neck and kissed him. My muscles relaxed and I let my whole body fall into his. I ran my fingers through his long, golden, brown hair, almost needing to touch every part of him. I wanted to keep kissing him forever, but as my mind processed his terrible pick-up line, I burst into laughter.</p><p>               “Sorry. I can’t stop thinking about that terrible pick-up line.”</p><p>               “You didn’t like it?” Morris chuckled, “Kiss me again then. It’ll give me time to think of better material.”</p><p> </p><p>♡♥♡ <em>The End</em> ♡♥♡</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>